


Better Built to Resume

by thistidalwave



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-18
Updated: 2011-10-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistidalwave/pseuds/thistidalwave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today, I had an important job interview. The interviewer really seemed to like me. Instead of hiring me, he asked me out on a date. FML.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Built to Resume

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/18397.html?thread=17153501#t17153501) at kinkme_merlin.

“How do I look?” Merlin asks his flatmate nervously, turning in a circle in front of her.

Gwen sighs. “You look absolutely dashing, Merlin,” she says in a sarcastic tone, even though she means it rather sincerely. “Now get out of my way. I’m trying to watch this movie.”

Instead of moving, Merlin puts his hands on his hips and glares at Gwen. “You’re the one who’s convinced that I simply must get this job at the library. You could at least show me off and wish me luck.”

Gwen fumbles with the remote and manages to pause the television by leaning to the side and aiming past Merlin. She gets up off the couch and goes over to him, adjusting his dark blue neckerchief so that it’s straighter than it already was, which would seem impossible to anyone else, but Gwen has a gift for such things. She hooks her arm through his and drags him to the front door. “Good luck.”

Merlin shoots her a shit-eating grin. “Thanks, Gwen. Much appreciated. Now go stare at Colin Firth all you want.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Merlin winks at her as he backs out the door and into the hallway. He whistles as he walks over to the lift, patting the pockets of his dark wash jeans (the closest thing he has to dress pants) to make sure he’s got all the essentials—his mobile, his keys to get back into the flat, his Oyster card to pay for the Tube—for the sixth time at least.

By the time Merlin is sitting on the Tube, on his way to his first job interview ever, he’s stopped whistling. He’s been going over potential answers to questions that are probably going to be asked with Gwen since he’d gotten the call from the library saying that they wanted him to come in for an interview, but that doesn’t stop him from worrying about it. They’re probably going to ask every question he _didn’t_ think of an answer for and then he’s going to be fucked, because he’s never been very good at making stuff up as he went along. He’d always been able to ace written tests while completely bombing an oral test on the exact same material.

And the thing is, even if the job wasn’t Merlin’s idea in the first place, he _really_ wants it. He loves anything to do with books, and the idea of being paid to sit in a library all day is wonderful. It’s probably one of the best ideas Gwen has ever had. After all, if Merlin has to have a part time job to help pay for school, it might as well be one he enjoys.

Merlin is so intent on reviewing what he’s going to say when he walks in that he misses his stop and has to get off at the next one and run the distance back to the library to avoid being late. He tries not to think about how that bodes for the rest of the interview.

The first thing Merlin hears when he steps into the library is a male voice yelling something along the lines of “And I hope you never come back, you cheeky bitch!” A girl with long black hair knocks into Merlin’s shoulder on her way out, flipping the bird over her shoulder.

“Fucking women,” the same voice mutters from in front of Merlin. It belongs to a tall guy wearing jeans and a hoodie, his blonde hair falling into his light blue eyes as he scribbles something on the clipboard he’s holding. He looks up at Merlin. “You’ll be Will, then?”

Merlin frowns. “Uh, no, I’m Merlin Emrys?” It comes out as a question even though Merlin’s pretty sure that is his name. Merlin blames the fact that a ridiculously good-looking bloke is standing in front of him.

The guy looks back at his clipboard. “Oh, I thought you weren’t showing up. You’re ten minutes late for a ten minute interview, after all. That Morgana chick insisted I interview her first since you weren’t here. I should have said no. Bitch would have deserved to sit and wait. But you can have her interview time.”

Merlin breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry I’m late. I—“

“Doesn’t matter, just come in.” The guy leads the way into a room with an intimidatingly wide table with one chair on each side. He sits on the far side and points Merlin toward the other one. “I’m Arthur Pendragon, by the way.”

Merlin nods, then furrows his eyebrows. “Wasn’t I supposed to be interviewed by someone named Gaius?” he asks, because that’s what the person on the phone had told him. Then his eyes widen. “Wait, Pendragon?” he asks, because the Pendragons own the UK’s most successful book distribution company.

“Gaius is ill,” Arthur says. “He asked me to conduct the interviews for today.” He doesn’t say anything about being a Pendragon, and Merlin decides not to bring it up again. “So, why do you want this job?” Arthur reads off the clipboard.

Merlin’s prepared for this one. “I need a part time job to help pay for my university education, and I thought that since I love books so much, a library would be the best place to get one.”

Arthur makes a note on his paper and asks, “Why do you think you’re best suited for this job?”

Merlin’s pretty sure he had an answer planned for this question, too, but his mind is going oddly blank with those blue eyes fixed on him. “Um, I’m good with computer software, and, er, I can, uh, alphabetise and, uh, recommend books that I’ve read, and... yeah.”

There’s a trace of a smirk on Arthur’s face as he writes on the clipboard again and then asks why Merlin thinks they should hire him. Merlin recalls Gwen helping him come up with a page of bullet notes that answer this question, but he can’t remember a single word written on that piece of paper.

“Uh, well, I think I’d be, um, a positive addition to, uh, library staff and I’m, uh, fun to be around, but I can be serious and, um, responsible about my work.”

Arthur stares at Merlin like he’s expecting something more. Merlin doesn’t have anything else whatsoever, so he just flashes a bit of a smile at Arthur instead. Arthur starts writing on the clipboard. Merlin watches nervously, fiddling with the bottom edge of his T-shirt. He thinks that Arthur seems to be writing down a lot more than what Merlin said and wonders if he’s writing down something along the lines of ‘this guy is a total idiot and not worth hiring’.

“Well, Merlin, that’s all the questions on my sheet of paper, here, but I’ve got another one for you.”

“Oh?” Merlin says, trying to look anywhere but at Arthur’s face.

“Oh yeah,” Arthur says, grinning, as he leans back in his chair and puts his arms behind his head. “Do you fancy going for a drink?”

Merlin is confused as to the significance of the question for a moment, but then it dawns on him—Arthur is asking him on a date.

Merlin may think Arthur is very good-looking, but Arthur has a reputation as the kind of person Merlin despises—into drugs, drinking, and sex, no long term relationships involved. Merlin hasn’t a clue why Arthur is even working at this library in the first place, but he doesn’t fancy being used, as much as he might fancy a drink with a cute blonde boy.

“No, thank you,” he says, getting to his feet. “Is that all?”

Arthur doesn’t move for a long moment, and then he only nods. Merlin turns to go. He thinks he catches Arthur scribbling something he’d written out, but decides he’s only imagining it.

~*~

“Your interviewer asked you out?”

Merlin nods.

“His name was Arthur Pendragon?”

Merlin nods again.

“And you said _no_?”

Merlin nods again. He’s sort of regretting even telling Gwen about this. “I’m never going to get the job now,” he moans.

Gwen sits down next to him on the couch and shoves a glass of some sort of alcoholic beverage into his hand. “Not necessarily,” she says encouragingly. “He’s not the one deciding, right? He was just taking notes for that Gaius person.”

Merlin drains the glass in one go and puts it down on the coffee table, burying his head in his hands. “I was rubbish, though.”

“You can’t have been rubbish,” Gwen says. “We spent _ages_ making and reviewing all those notes.”

“I was rubbish,” Merlin repeats. “I totally blanked. I didn’t have a clue what to say.” He picks up the papers he’d already read a million times over since he got back to the flat. He thinks he could probably recite them in his sleep now, which is sort of unfortunate timing. “He asked me these questions and I gave answers that didn’t even make sense and involved lots of ‘ums’.”

Gwen looks at the papers and then at Merlin sadly. “Well, it’ll be okay, Merlin. You always said it didn’t matter if you got the job or not.”

Merlin moans into his hands.

~*~

Merlin is supposed to hear back from the library by the next Saturday at the latest. He spends the entirety of Saturday morning staring at his mobile and is only pried away by Gwen insisting he come out for lunch with her without bringing his phone.

Gwen spends the entire time they’re out trying to distract Merlin by making jokes and fluttering her eyelashes like she does when she’s trying especially hard to get Merlin to fancy her. Merlin doesn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s hopeless because A) he prefers blokes, for the most part, and B) she looks stupid when she does that. Well, she knew Merlin was gay, and he did tell her she looked like she was trying to get a bit of dust out of her eye, but she didn’t clue in to either, apparently.

It’s really a shame, because Gwen isn’t unintelligent.

When they get back to the flat, Merlin’s phone is ringing. It stops just as Merlin manages to get to it, and he thinks he’s missed the call, but an inspection of the screen reveals that he’s missed twelve calls from an unknown number already, and then it starts to ring _again_.

“Hello?”

“Merlin. I got your number from your resume. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, can I make it up to you? I can get my father to give you a job, or—“

“Who is this?” Merlin interrupts, even though he’s got a pretty good idea who that voice belongs to.

“It’s, uh, Arthur Pendragon. I was the person—“

“—that interviewed me, I know. Why are you calling me?”

There’s the sound of someone taking a deep breath on the other end of the line, and then Arthur says, much quieter now, “You don’t know yet, do you?”

“Know what?”

“Shit,” Arthur says almost inaudibly. “You didn’t get the job. I’m really sorry.”

Merlin frowns. “I wasn’t expecting to, really,” he says truthfully, though he had been holding onto his last spark of hope. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve called me.”

Arthur doesn’t say anything for a moment, which Merlin takes advantage of by holding the phone away from himself and telling Gwen to stop making that face at him. She pouts and goes off into the kitchen, leaving Merlin alone in the living room. “It’s my fault you didn’t get the job,” Arthur finally says. “I was angry because you rejected me and scribbled out everything valid I wrote about you on your sheet. I feel like I should make it up to you.”

“I hardly think I would have gotten the job if Gaius himself had interviewed me. I was hopeless,” Merlin says. “So just forget about it.”

“I can’t,” Arthur protests. “Please, you’ve—“

“Forget. About. It,” Merlin says slowly, then snaps his phone shut, effectively ending the call.

 _I don’t need help from a spoiled rich kid,_ he thinks to himself as he shuts off his phone.

~*~

Merlin presses the buttons that will result in a large coffee with four sugars, no cream and extra foam for the woman in front of him and accepts the payment for it from her, making her change and handing it back with a smile.

His greeting for the next customer dies on his lips when he sees who it is.

“Merlin! Fancy seeing you here.”

“Arthur,” he says. “What can I get you?”

“A large coffee, black, but never mind that. How are you?”

Merlin stares at the buttons. “I’m fine. Got a job, as you can see. Perfectly well off.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you’re not totally hopeless at all interviews, then.”

Merlin frowns. “My friend asked her boss to give me the job, actually,” he says. “Are you going to pay? The queue is getting long.” Arthur hands Merlin his credit card, which is completely ridiculous. “You have to spend more than that to use this.”

“Right, so get me a muffin, too, or something.”

Merlin rolls his eyes and punches in a pomegranate muffin and plain bagel, trying to pick things Arthur would probably find gross—not that it would really matter to Arthur, because he’ll probably just chuck them in the bin if he doesn’t want to eat it, because it doesn’t matter how much money he spent. He swipes the credit card and hands it back to Arthur along with the keypad.

Arthur shoots Merlin one last smile before moving out of the way. Merlin ignores him.

Merlin doesn’t notice until there’s a lull in the rush of customers, but Arthur has taken up residence at a table off to the right of Merlin’s cash register and is sitting there, nursing his coffee and picking apart his muffin. This is harder for Merlin to ignore than one smile—Arthur is constantly gazing toward Merlin and smiling. Merlin has half a mind to just leave, but he isn’t willing to get fired from the job Gwen got for him just to avoid Arthur.

When Merlin is finally finished his shift, Arthur is still sitting at the same table. When he sees Merlin heading for the door, he jumps up to follow.

“Merlin, wait up!”

Merlin does not wait up, but Arthur manages to catch him up anyway.

“Thanks for the muffin. Good choice, pomegranate.”

It figures that Arthur would be odd enough to like something like pomegranates. Even if Merlin likes pomegranates, too. He’s always been told it’s weird.

“So, I was thinking, do you want to come for a walk in the park with me? Or maybe we could go get a bite to eat? Or you could come to my place, if that’s more your style.”

“No,” Merlin says, continuing to walk down the street calmly.

Arthur walks double time to Merlin and has to weave around people to keep up, which makes him look like he’s bouncing up and down. “No?” he echoes. “But I just sat and waited for you to be done work for hours.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Merlin says, stopping at the bus stop.

Arthur comes to a halt as well, frowning. “Hey, I know I have a shitty rep and we didn’t get off to the greatest start, what with me yelling at that chick—she did deserve it, though—and then rambling my face off like a lovesick school boy, but I like you and I think you should give me a chance. I mean, well, you’ve got that hair and those eyes and those ears and honestly I spend half my time thinking about you and I don’t think I’m ever going to stop trying to make you mine now that I know where you work, just so you know.”

Merlin doesn’t look at Arthur. He thinks that if he does he won’t be able to resist those blue eyes. “Cool story, bro,” he says. “I’ve got to catch this bus.”

Merlin gets on the bus. He doesn’t even look out the window until it’s moving again, and rightly so—Arthur is watching the bus go with a crestfallen expression that definitely would have sent Merlin running straight back out onto the pavement.

~*~

Arthur is not waiting at the cafe when Merlin and Gwen get to work the next day. Merlin counts it as a blessing.

“I can’t believe I missed him yesterday,” Gwen says for the umpteenth time. “I would have told him to stay away from you.”

Merlin shrugs. “With my luck, he’ll show up again.”

And he does.

Just not exactly how Merlin imagined it happening.

What Merlin imagined was Arthur coming in, getting some food from Merlin’s register (of course), and then sitting at the same table as the day before making moon eyes at Merlin.

What actually happens is that Arthur comes in, stands on top of a table, and says, very, very loudly, “Soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Merlin is the sun!” while gesturing grandly toward Merlin.

Everyone in the cafe stops what they were doing and stares at Arthur, who continues to recite _Romeo and Juliet_. People look back and forth from Merlin to Arthur, eyes wide.

Merlin has never wanted to be invisible more.

“You need to shut him up,” Merlin’s boss hisses in his ear. “He’s scaring away the customers.”

Merlin looks at his boss, at a loss.

“ _Now_! Or you’re fired!”

That sets Merlin into action. He rushes out from behind the counter, yelling for Arthur to shut up. Arthur grins down at Merlin, his hands on his hips.

“Are you ready to admit your love for me?” he asks.

“No,” Merlin says, frowning.

“Fine then. I will recommence my recitation, then.”

“No! I’ll go on a date with you, just shut up and get down from there!”

Arthur grins and jumps down from the table. “I knew you’d come around.”

“You are a vile headed clot pole,” Merlin spits out, turning and stalking back behind the counter.

“Clot pole?” Arthur questions loudly.

“Yes, a bloody _clot pole_ ,” Merlin repeats. “Now leave me alone!”

Arthur grins. “I’ll text you where to meet me tonight, then.”

He’s gone before Merlin can say anything else.

“Well, that was rather dramatic, wasn’t it?” Gwen says from behind Merlin.

Merlin groans. “Aren’t you glad you were here?”

“Yes, actually. You have to admit that it was pretty amusing.”

“It was not. I have to go on a date with him now.”

Gwen frowns. “You do?”

“Yes,” Merlin says. “The boss said he was going to fire me if I didn’t shut Arthur up, and that was the only thing that would get him to stop.”

“Well, that’s rubbish. You should just not go,” Gwen says.

Merlin snorts. “And have him back in here tomorrow, quoting more Shakespeare? I’d rather not, Gwen.”

“Fair enough,” Gwen mutters.

~*~

From: Arthur Pendragon 16:45

Half-seven [here](http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&source=s_q&hl=en&geocode=&q=London+Eye&sll=51.501904,-0.100594&sspn=0.053642,0.154324&ie=UTF8&hq=London+Eye&hnear=London+Eye,+Westminster+Bridge+Rd,+London+SE1,+United+Kingdom&ll=51.503333,-0.1185&spn=0.003186,0.009645&t=h&z). Looking forward to it.

~*~

“Did you really have to Google Maps link me to the London Eye? You could have just said.”

“I thought you might not know where it is,” Arthur says, grinning.

“I may be bad with job interviews, but I’m not an idiot,” Merlin protests. “If you’re trying to charm me, you’re going to have to work harder than that.”

“I’m well aware of that,” Arthur says. “You didn’t even get sappy for Shakespeare.”

“I’m not a sappy person.”

“We’ll see about that.”

When Arthur leads Merlin into a fancy restaurant, Merlin has the temptation to run as fast as possible in the opposite direction. “If you’re trying to impress me, that’s not going to help you,” he says.

Arthur just looks at him quizzically. “I’m not trying to impress you, I’m just trying to treat you properly.” Merlin snorts. There’s an awkward silence for a minute, then Arthur starts laughing. “That was terrible, I’m so sorry.”

“You should be,” Merlin says. He finds himself grinning at Arthur, despite promising himself that he wasn’t going to enjoy this earlier, and immediately stops.

“So, what are you at school for?” Arthur asks after they’ve ordered their drinks.

“I’m an English major with a minor in Biology,” Merlin says, looking at the menu. Everything on it is way too bloody expensive. He assumes Arthur is paying (Arthur better be fucking paying) and considers ordering the most expensive thing just because he can.

“English and Bio? Where is that going to get you?”

Merlin shrugs. “I haven’t a clue. I just picked courses I was interested in.”

“That’s an interesting way to go about it,” Arthur comments. He isn’t even looking at his menu. Merlin wonders if he’s got it memorised or something.

“I suppose,” Merlin mutters. He puts down his menu and looks at Arthur, taking a sip of his water. “What do you do with your time?” He tells himself he doesn’t actually care what the answer is, he’s just making conversation so that this isn’t boring as well as torturous.

Arthur shrugs. “Work at the library. Trail my father at his workplace. Help with the figures and accounting.”

“Sounds boring,” Merlin says, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

A smile plays across Arthur’s face. He leans over to Merlin a bit and whispers, “It is. But don’t tell my father I said that.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Merlin says, trying to ignore the fact that he can smell Arthur’s cologne from this distance and that he sort of wants to bury his nose in Arthur’s neck to get a better whiff of it. Of course, the neck itself doesn’t look unappealing, either...

“Are you ready to order?” a waiter asks, jerking Merlin out of his fantasies. Arthur orders something complicated while Merlin just opens his menu and points at something randomly, then shows it to the waiter, who looks rather disgusted with this method of ordering.

“What did you order?” Arthur asks curiously once the waiter has gone.

“I don’t know. I pointed.”

Arthur stares at Merlin a moment, then starts laughing. “You’re too cute.”  
Merlin does _not_ blush.

“You’re blushing! I told you we’d see about you being a sap.”

“That wasn’t _me_ being a sap. That was _you_.”

“But you blushed!” Arthur says loudly, his smile nearly splitting his face in half.

“Do you have a volume control somewhere? All you ever seem to do is yell,” Merlin complains.

“I find that I spend too much time being seen and not heard to bother myself with staying quiet in my free time.”

And _that_ does not cause Merlin’s heart to seize up in sympathy.

Arthur stirs the ice in his water glass around with his finger. Merlin wrinkles his nose.

“You shouldn’t stick your finger in your drink.”

“Why not? It’s not like it’s unsanitary, the germs are already on me.”

“But they’re not _in_ you,” Merlin says, rolling his eyes.

“What are you, a doctor?”

“No, but I could be.”

“Good luck with that, English major,” Arthur scoffs.

Merlin is tempted to drop English in favour of a pre-Med track as soon as possible, just to rub it in Arthur’s face. But that would mean Merlin cares what Arthur thinks. And Merlin does not care what Arthur thinks.

Their food comes, and Merlin discovers that he ordered some sort of seafood thing with salad. He eats the salad no problem and pokes at the seafood for a bit before deciding it’s disgusting. This is apparently a great thing for Arthur, as the second he finishes his... something that Merlin doesn’t want to ask about... he puts an elbow on the table, points at Merlin’s food with a flick of his wrist and says “Are you gonna eat that?”

Merlin watches in slight disgust as Arthur finishes the seafood. “Is your stomach a bottomless pit?”

“Maybe,” Arthur says, licking some sort of red sauce off his thumb. “The doctors are still conducting tests.”

That makes Merlin laugh despite himself.

Arthur pays for dinner and they leave the restaurant. Merlin fully expects Arthur to say goodbye and go off somewhere, but he just takes Merlin’s hand and starts walking down the street with him. Merlin doesn’t take his hand back on the grounds that he doesn’t want to do that embarrassing thing where you’re walking aimlessly with someone and then you suddenly start walking in opposite directions because one or both of you has no idea where you’re going. It’s definitely because of that, because it’s not because Merlin likes having his hand all wrapped up in Arthur’s. Nope.

“So where are we going?” Merlin asks after a few minutes of silent walking.

“Shhh!” Arthur hisses, putting his index finger to his lips. “We’re enjoying a moonlit stroll, haven’t you noticed?”

Merlin involuntarily glances at the sky. “It’s cloudy,” he points out.

“A nice street lamp lit stroll, then.”

“Is this supposed to be really romantic?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“It’s not working.”

Arthur stops walking. Merlin follows suit. “No?” Arthur asks.

“No,” Merlin says, but he thinks that maybe he’s lying and it is sort of romantic to be standing in the middle of a sidewalk with only the occasional person walking past them, just enjoying each other’s company.

Except Merlin doesn’t enjoy Arthur’s company, so that whole idea is irrelevant.

Arthur sighs and turns around. “Come on, then. I’ll take you home.”

Arthur flags down a taxi and they ride to Merlin’s building in silence, with Arthur maybe almost too close to Merlin, but not so close that Merlin can really justify being rude enough to push him away. When the taxi parks on the curb, Arthur asks the driver to wait and gets out with Merlin.

“You’re not coming in,” Merlin informs him.

“I wasn’t expecting to,” Arthur says, looking kind of hurt. “I just sort of wanted to...” He trails off, taking a step toward Merlin. Merlin definitely thinks about taking a step back, but for some reason his body is not obeying any sort of commands.

“Wanted to what?” he manages to choke out. Arthur is far too close to him. He can’t think properly when Arthur is _right there_. It’s not fair, although why the situation needs to be fair escapes him.

“Do this,” Arthur whispers, and his breath is warm on Merlin’s face and he’s coming closer and his lips are _right fucking there_ and no, this can’t be right, he doesn’t even like Arthur!

Arthur’s lips land on Merlin’s cheek, Merlin having managed to turn his head at the last possible second.

“Ouch,” Arthur mutters, stepping away. “Rejected.”

“Sorry,” Merlin says without being exactly sure why he’s apologising.

“No problem,” Arthur says, already smiling again. “I’m a patient man.”

Merlin snorts.

“Okay, perhaps a bit impatient, but I try my best. I’ll text you, all right?”

Merlin finds himself nodding as Arthur flashes him a grin and gets back into the taxi.

~*~

From: Arthur Pendragon 09:25

The river water looks just like your eyes today. I’d be willing to drown in it just because of that.

From: Arthur Pendragon 09:36

Drowning jokes are bad, okay. So, next time I think we should actually go up in the London Eye instead of just meeting by it. Isn’t that supposed to be romantic?

From: Arthur Pendragon 09:41

Not romantic. How about a hole in the wall cafe, do you like those? Wait, you work in one. Shit.

To: Arthur Pendragon 10:03

yes, and i would prefer if you left me to it.

From: Arthur Pendragon 10:04

Is it taking all your brainpower to push the right buttons? I bet it is.

From: Arthur Pendragon 10:12

Hey, I’m sorry, I know it takes minimal effort to push buttons. You’re probably very wise, oh English Major.

From: Arthur Pendragon 10:22

I take it back. It must take a lot of brain power, or else you’d reply to my texts. The nice ones, at least.

From: Arthur Pendragon 10:37

I’m going to commit suicide, just so you know. You can have all my stuff.

To: Arthur Pendragon 10:41

why can i have your stuff? are you daft?

From: Arthur Pendragon 10:42

I think you deserve it most. My father definitely doesn’t need it.

From: Arthur Pendragon 10:58

I bet you found that one sappy.

To: Arthur Pendragon 11:22

shut up you’re not sappy.

From: Arthur Pendragon 11:24

Oh, but Merlin, your hair is like soft midnight and your eyes are like the brightest blue sky. Your skin is as soft as freshly washed blankets and your laugh is like the tinkling of bells on a Christmas sleigh. Beauty is you and you are beauty and not even the most attractive woman in the world holds a candle to you.

To: Arthur Pendragon 11:40

I can see why you don’t take English classes. You’re utter crap. And obviously women don’t hold a candle to me because you’re gay, you twat.

From: Arthur Pendragon 11:41

Haven’t you ever heard that it’s the thought that counts?

From: Arthur Pendragon 12:04

Also, why are you so rude to me?

From: Arthur Pendragon 12:25

Have you ever been to a business luncheon? They are probably the dullest things I’ve ever been subjected to, next to round table meetings.

To: Arthur Pendragon 12:27

Wait, are you King Arthur of the Round Table?

From: Arthur Pendragon 12:30

If I am, you’re Merlin the Court Sorcerer.

To: Arthur Pendragon 12:33

A horrifying prospect. I am not risking my life to save yours, even if I can wield the powers of the elements and shit.

From: Arthur Pendragon 12:34

Oh, please. You wouldn’t let me die.

To: Arthur Pendragon 12:43

I suppose not.

From: Arthur Pendragon 12:44

It’s a start.

From: Arthur Pendragon 13:33

So how many coffees have you brewed so far? Or are you being a weasel and sticking to the till?

From: Arthur Pendragon 13:47

You are being a weasel, aren’t you.

From: Arthur Pendragon 14:15

My father just made a brilliant business deal. I am putting on my best fake smile. I’d take a picture for you, but that might look slightly odd.

From: Arthur Pendragon 14:42

Why does the loo need to look pretty?

From: Arthur Pendragon 15:22

Those buttons still taking all your attention, eh? Can’t spare a moment for poor old Arthur.

From: Arthur Pendragon 16:43

Merlin. I have escaped my father. Sing Hallelujahs for me.

From: Arthur Pendragon 17:12

Good God, Morgana is still a bitch. She threw a cup of pens at me! AT MY HEAD. And just because I said, and I am totally quoting, ‘Hi, I’ll be taking over now.’

To: Arthur Pendragon 17:16

She is obviously an unappreciative bitch.

From: Arthur Pendragon 17:17

You understand!

To: Arthur Pendragon 17:31

Right, who is Morgana again?

From: Arthur Pendragon 17:34

The bitchy chick I interviewed before you, remember?

To: Arthur Pendragon 17:41

So she got the job, then?

From: Arthur Pendragon 17:52

Yeah, I’m sorry. She seemed decent until right up near the end when she offered to go out with me if I put in a good word for her and when I said there was no way in hell she said I was greasy. Merlin, am I greasy?

To: Arthur Pendragon 18:01

No, Arthur, that is not an adjective I’d use to describe you.

From: Arthur Pendragon 18:04

Oh, thank fuck.

From: Arthur Pendragon 19:45

What are you doing?

To: Arthur Pendragon 19:50

Just got home from dinner with my girlfriend Gwen. Lots more fun than dinner with you, I must say.

~*~

Merlin can’t figure out why Arthur stopped texting him yesterday and hasn’t sent him a single one yet, even though it’s already Merlin’s lunch hour. By this time yesterday Arthur had already sent him ten texts. The thing is that even though Merlin had wanted to smash his mobile the day before, he finds that today he misses the near constant vibrating in his pocket.

Merlin checks his phone for the millionth time, thinking that maybe he missed something, but the screen is as void of notifications as ever. He scrolls through his inbox, just in case, but the last text is Arthur’s ‘thank fuck’ from last night. He’s already looked at his outbox, trying to figure out if he said something to offend Arthur, but all he said was that ‘greasy’ wasn’t an adjective he’d use to describe him, and the last time Merlin checked that sort of thing was a compliment.

 _Stop thinking about him_ , he orders himself. _You don’t like him, remember?_

Sure, Merlin remembers, but he’s starting to question why exactly he hates Arthur so much. He was, after all, pretty nice on that date.

Or something. Maybe.

Merlin shoves his phone into his pocket, determined not to take it out again for the rest of his lunch break, and bites the corner off his sandwich. Gwen suddenly appears across from him, sitting down in the chair on the other side of his table.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Eating lunch,” Merlin says after he swallows. “What does it look like?”

Gwen shakes her head. “I meant to ask what you were checking your phone so often for. Are you expecting a call?”

Merlin shrugs. Gwen raises her eyebrows and Merlin sighs. “Arthur hasn’t texted me at all today.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? You were really annoyed about it yesterday.”

Merlin resists the urge to pull out his phone again. “Yeah, I suppose,” he mumbles, shoving more of his sandwich into his mouth.

Gwen sits quietly for a minute, tapping her fingers on the table and watching Merlin chew. Finally, just as Merlin is going to ask if she’s just going to stare at him for the rest of the day, she stands and says, “If you want to talk to him so bad, just call him.” She’s gone back to work before Merlin can say anything.

Merlin considers actually taking that advice, then dismisses it. He doesn’t want to talk to Arthur _that_ badly. Even as he thinks so, his fingers pry his phone out of his pocket without his permission and start looking for another non-existent text from Arthur. When they don’t find one, his thumb taps the ‘Call Contact’ button and he lifts the phone to his ear.

He can’t bring himself to bring it back down and hit ‘End Call’, so he listens while it rings and rings and rings and finally Arthur’s voice kicks in with a ‘Hello, you’ve reached the mobile of Arthur P—“ and Merlin finally manages to hang up.

He goes back to work ten minutes early and without finishing his sandwich to avoid his fingers potentially taking control of him again.

~*~

Merlin hasn’t got a clue why he’s standing in front of the library when he’s only got twenty-five minutes to get to his afternoon lecture, but standing in front of the library he is. He thinks that Arthur _should_ be working, since he’d texted about going into work at just after five the day before and it’s five minutes after now.

And apparently Merlin _does_ want to talk to Arthur rather badly.

He pulls open the door and goes inside. The dark haired girl who brushed past Merlin when he came for the interview is sitting at the front desk, laying out pens in front of her. It looks to Merlin like she’s colour-coding them or something.

She looks up and smiles when she hears Merlin approaching, straightening her black framed glasses on her face and patting her name tag as she does so. “Can I help you find something?”

Merlin thinks that maybe Arthur played up Morgana’s apparent bitchiness more than really necessary. “Yeah, I was wondering if you’ve seen Arthur Pendragon?”

“Oh,” Morgana says, her face going sour. “That twat. No, I haven’t seen him. He was supposed to be here seven minutes ago, but there’s no sign of him. I suppose that means I’ll be working late—not that I mind, I quite simply _love_ this job. Aren’t you sad that you didn’t get it?”

Merlin decides that Arthur was not playing up the bitchiness. “Yes, well, thanks. I’ll be leaving now.”

“Tell Arthur to go fuck himself if you see him,” Morgana says, leaning back in her chair and taking out a nail file. Merlin nods and hightails it out of the library.

~*~

To: Arthur Pendragon 17:21

I went looking for you at the library and met Morgana. You’re right, she’s a total bitch. Wow.

To: Arthur Pendragon 17:33

Three minutes into a lecture on marine life biology and I’m already ready to kill myself. Gwen will be having my stuff, not you, I’m afraid.

To: Arthur Pendragon 17:52

Is there a reason why you stopped texting me?

To: Arthur Pendragon 18:43

Lecture. Never. Ends. Wish you would text back to entertain me. Didn’t think I’d miss your sap.

To: Arthur Pendragon 19:12

Not even an admission that you’re sappy will attract your attention. I give up.

To: Arthur Pendragon 21:02

Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Colin Firth’s eyes look way too like yours. It’s making watching these movies more painful than usual.

To: Arthur Pendragon 07:32

What time do you get up in the mornings? Is it acceptable to be texting you this early? Whatever, you won’t reply anyway so why should I give a shit?

To: Arthur Pendragon 08:22

English lecture is still boring even if not as boring as marine life biology. I thought I was interested in these courses, but I might be more interested in

To: Arthur Pendragon 08:24

I’m not telling you what the rest of that text was unless you ask nicely, by the way. Don’t try to pretend you’re not curious.

To: Arthur Pendragon 10:31

Have you disconnected your number? I would have by now if I was this intent on not replying to some creep’s texts. But I’m not a creep. Or am I? Maybe I am. It’s not something I’ve considered over my afternoon tea before.

To: Arthur Pendragon 11:43

I’m not going to stop texting you even if you have disconnected the number and aren’t even reading these. I’m too much of an optimist. It annoys Gwen.

To: Arthur Pendragon 12:51

Just after lunch—this is when you usually come in and wreak havoc. I shall be here. Waiting. Just so you know.

To: Arthur Pendragon 17:07

You have officially crushed my hopes and dreams.

To: Arthur Pendragon 18:44

Texting you under the table while Gwen tries to seduce me with fluttering eyelashes yet again. When will she understand that she looks like an idiot when she does that? I’ve been trying to get her to see sense for years. Got any tips, perhaps?

From: Arthur Pendragon 19:01

I wouldn’t think that your girlfriend would need to seduce you.

To: Arthur Pendragon 19:03

What girlfriend? If you’re talking to me now, will you meet me at the closest bar to my building tomorrow night so you can tell me your problem to my face? You can use your Google Maps skills to find it.

From: Arthur Pendragon 19:12

Be there at nine.

To: Arthur Pendragon 19:13

You got it.

~*~

Merlin looks at his phone screen for about the billionth time. It still says a time obscenely far past nine o’clock—so far past that it’s nearly ten. Any sane person would probably have given up by now, but Merlin is just too optimistic for his own good. He keeps making excuses for Arthur—he’s just been kept late at work, his father needed him to do something, he fell ill, he picked the wrong bar to go to, he’s lost his phone so he can’t tell Merlin where the fuck he is, he’ll be here any second now...

Merlin knows it’s useless to sit around any longer, but he can’t bring himself to move off the bar stool. He’s been anticipating this all day. He was so excited about finally getting to know why Arthur stopped texting and maybe getting Arthur to start again. Arthur can’t be letting him down.

“Another?” the bartender asks of Merlin’s empty glass that had once contained a pint of beer. Merlin shakes his head, and the bartender looks sympathetic. “Given up on whoever you’ve been waiting for, then?”

Merlin nods and slides off the stool to melt into the crowd, away from that pitying look and the judging that’s going on behind it.

~*~

To: Arthur Pendragon 22:16

You’re a fucking cunt.

~*~

Arthur Pendragon might be a cunt, but Merlin just can’t let it rest. Which is why he’s standing in front of the library, hoping that Arthur might just show up.

Someone knocks into Merlin on the way into the library, sending the keys he was spinning nervously around his finger to the ground. He picks them up and glares at the offender, who merely wrinkles her nose at him.

Of course it would be Morgana. “What are you standing out here for? Because if you’re looking for Arthur, you’d have better luck _inside_ the building.”

“How would you know?” Merlin mutters, raising his eyebrows.

“I’m only assuming. He should be working, after all.”

Merlin thinks that’s an odd turn of events. He should have been just showing up, if Merlin was right about what time his shift starts. He doesn’t mention this to Morgana, though—he just follows her in quietly.

And sure enough, there’s Arthur, leaning back in his chair with his feet up on the desk. He looks like he might have fallen asleep. He looks gorgeous, even Merlin can admit that.

“Get your feet down!” Morgana nearly yells. Arthur’s on his feet in a second, blinking sleepily as he looks around.

“Wha—oh. You’re here.” He turns to pick something up, then stops mid-motion. “And _you’re_ here.”

Merlin resists the urge to look around in case Arthur is referring to someone else. “Yep, here I am. There you weren’t.”

Arthur puts a hand to his forehead, effectively messing up his fringe in a rather attractive manner that only he could pull off. “Look, Merlin, I’m—“

“Oh no. Don’t you dare fucking apologise to me. I don’t want to hear it. That’s how this all started! You decided to _ask me out_ and then when I said no you went all rejected child and when you realised that you were a prat you decided you were going to ring me and _apologise_ for something that wasn’t even your fault! And then you just won’t give up—you’ve got to go quoting Shakespeare and forcing me to go out with you and then _texting_ me. And when I finally think to myself ‘hey, maybe he’s not so bad’, you stop! You don’t answer my texts, you don’t answer my calls, you don’t come in to work—“

“That wasn’t because of—“

“I don’t care! You said you would meet me and you didn’t! You’re an overbearing, condescending, patronising dollop head!”

“Um, this is a library!” Morgana says in a high pitched voice, her eyes wide. “If you’re going to continue this, could you kindly _take it outside_?”

“Oh, no, I am finished,” Merlin spits. “Proceed with what you were doing.” He turns on his heel and heads straight back out the door, feeling worse than he had in the first place.

He’s halfway down the street when he hears Arthur shouting for him to wait up. He tells himself that he has no reason to wait for the prick, but he finds himself slowing his pace to let Arthur catch up.

“What do you want?” Merlin asks when Arthur is beside him, intentionally keeping his gaze focussed forward.

“Do you really think I’m not that bad?”

“No, I think you’re an over—“

“—bearing, blah blah something. I got that much.”

“So you shouldn’t need to ask, should you?”

Arthur sighs. “Merlin, listen, I entirely intended to meet you at that bar last night, but I forgot that I’m not allowed into them!”

That stops Merlin short. “What?”

“It’s why I’m working at the library,” Arthur says, shifting awkwardly. “I got caught with a ton of drugs, drunk out of my mind, and they were going to send me to prison, but my father pulled some strings and got me off with being banned from every alcohol serving establishment in the country and service to the community, which I’m doing through working at the library.”

Merlin shakes his head. “Then why did you agree to meet me at a bar? You must be stupider than I thought.”

Arthur snorts. “Maybe I am. I completely forgot, and then my phone had to go and _die_ and I’d left my charger in my father’s office so I was totally screwed. I blame you for that, by the way. All your texts made me use my phone more than normal. It was supposed to be fine until today.”

“Are you seriously blaming me for that? If you’d replied maybe there wouldn’t be so many.”

There’s an awkward silence, then Merlin glances at his phone screen. “I’ve really got to go, I got Gwen to cover the beginning of my shift for me, but she’ll want to go home.”

Arthur’s face seems to darken at the mention of Gwen, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just nods. “Can I come with you and wait? I don’t think we’re done with this conversation.”

Merlin agrees.

~*~

“He’s a _criminal_?” Gwen says as she taps in someone’s order and makes change for them. “I think I’m supposed to say that that’s mad sexy or something.”

Merlin shrugs. “This isn’t a soap opera. You haven’t got lines to memorise, Gwen.”

“Well, I’m glad you got an explanation out of him, if not an apology.”

“I still don’t know why he stopped texting though,” Merlin points out.

“So go find out,” Gwen says, waving her hand toward Arthur, who is sitting at a table near the door, obviously watching them.

“I’ve got to work,” Merlin protests.

“Don’t sweat it, Merlin. I’m on a roll with this button pushing, I’m more than happy to take over for you. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Merlin grins. “Thanks, Gwen. You’re the best flatmate ever.” He leans in to hug her round the shoulders quickly and then runs off to join Arthur at his table.

“Looking cosy,” Arthur says sarcastically when Merlin sits down.

Merlin wrinkles his eyebrows in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You and your girlfriend, which, by the way, is the reason I stopped texting you, since you seem to be so confused about it. It’s not nice to lead a man on, you know.”

“Wait—you mean _Gwen_? She’s my flatmate—she’s like my _sister_. I mean, she’s got an unreasonable crush on me for sure, but I’ve been _trying_ to tell her that I like blokes for years and she still can’t give up hope.”

Now Arthur looks confused. “Then what’s this?” he says accusingly, taking out his phone and tapping it a bit before pushing it toward Merlin.

From: Merlin Emrys 19:50

Just got home from dinner with my girlfriend Gwen. Lots more fun than dinner with you, I must say.

Merlin looks up at Arthur, eyes wide. “I didn’t send that, I swear. You can look on my phone, I haven’t got it on there at all.”

“Things can be deleted,” Arthur says coolly, taking his mobile back and tucking it into his pocket again.

“Deleted... almost eight o’clock...” Merlin mutters to himself, trying to figure out how exactly the offending text had arrived in Arthur’s inbox. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, _Gwen_. I’m going to murder her in her sleep.”

“Don’t be too drastic,” Arthur warns. “I don’t think you’d do well in jail. Too pretty.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you just called me pretty and continue plotting the demise of my flatmate, if that’s all right with you,” Merlin says, glaring daggers toward the register where Gwen is working.

Arthur sighs and gets up, grabbing Merlin’s arm and dragging him out the door. “I’m afraid I can’t let that happen. I better take you home and make sure you stay there until you calm down, just as a precaution.”

“Why would she _do_ that?” Merlin moans as Arthur guides him down the pavement. “She’s been acting so nice.”

“The best do,” Arthur says grimly. “You’ll have to ask her that, not me.”

“Right. Well, here’s a question for you: what’s with the hiding the fact that you’re a convicted criminal from me?”

Arthur sighs. They’ve reached the bus stop Merlin ditched Arthur at those few days ago and they both sit on the bench. “You already have an idea in your head about me—don’t deny it, a bookworm like you sees the news involving me, even if you don’t care about it. I didn’t want to just straight up confirm everything you’ve ever thought about me. I’m a lot more than my reputation. People judge.”

Merlin can understand that, even if he doesn’t appreciate it. “Still would have preferred a warning,” he grumbles, leaning into Arthur’s side a bit.

Arthur leans back. “Well, you’ve got one now.”

“You know what I haven’t got?”

“What?”

“An apology. You’ve been doing a lot of explaining, but you haven’t been apologising.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to apologise. Apologising is bad, it started this whole mess?” Arthur questions, raising an eyebrow.

Merlin is a bit busy memorising the way the side of Arthur’s body settles just so against his own, but he manages to mumble out “Maybe this whole mess isn’t so bad.”

Arthur’s grin could split the heavens. “Then I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Shhh,” Merlin hisses. “Once was good enough.”

~*~

From: Arthur Pendragon 22:21

I don’t want your stuff. I knew you would come around about me being sappy. My eyes are blue and Colin Firth’s are brown, so you make no sense. It’s acceptable for you to text me whenever you want. There are a lot of things to be more interested in than biology and the English language, but I’m interested to know which you were referring to. And baby, I am your hopes and dreams.

~*~

It’s lucky that Merlin has bad aim, because otherwise Gwen would have been met with a plastic cup right to the head when she stepped in the door. As it is, the cup hits the wall just above her head, causing her to jump and shut the door heavily behind her. “What the hell?”

“Why did you tell Arthur you were my girlfriend?”

“I—“

“Because, Guinevere,” Merlin continues, ignoring her, “I have been trying to inform you for years that I am very sorry, but you are like my sister, due mostly to the fact that I’d _rather have sex with blokes_ , if that’s quite all bloody right with you and even if it isn’t.”

“I was just—“

“You were just fucking up the closest thing I’ve ever come to an actual relationship with someone. Am I supposed to say thank you for that?”

“I thought—“

“You thought what? That you were helping? Well, Guinevere, I’d appreciate if you refrained from _helping_ in future.”

“I was trying—“

“To be an insufferably daft twit? Congratulations, you succeeded!”

“For God’s sake, Merlin, _shut up_! You kept on saying how annoyed you were! I thought I’d get him to stop texting you so that you wouldn’t have to be annoyed anymore. But obviously that wasn’t such a good idea, because you were doing that thing where you say the exact opposite of what you mean, which I usually notice, but this time I didn’t because I’m a bit blinded by my own admittedly daft fantasies. It took you obsessing over your mobile to make me realise. I’ve been trying to make up for it by suggesting you call him and offering to take over your shift, but obviously you don’t even care.”

Merlin stands frozen for a moment, then breathes out loudly and flops down on the couch. Gwen comes over and sits next to him with a sigh.

“I’m really sorry, Merlin. Honestly.”

Merlin just grunts.

“I understand if you’re not ready to forgive me yet,” Gwen says, resigned. “But I’ll be here when you are.”

~*~

For once, Merlin is actually happy to see Arthur walk into the cafe from his position behind the counter, making up coffees—he’s fairly sure that this time Arthur isn’t going to do something irrational like jumping on the tables. What’s interesting, however, is the slightly awkward but good-looking man he’s dragging in by the wrist. He pulls him right up to the front of the queue leading to the register that Gwen’s working at, much to the protests of the people in said queue, and says, “Gwen, this is Lancelot. Lancelot, this is Gwen.”

Merlin wishes he could see Gwen’s face.

“Um, you’re supposed to be at the back of the queue,” Gwen stammers out, and Merlin doesn’t need to be able to see her face anymore—he can picture it perfectly. The whole blushing, half looking down thing, and just about now—yep, she’s tucked a bit of hair behind her ear.

“I would stand in a queue of a million people just to have the chance to talk to you,” Lancelot says, winking, as he backs up and then turns to take his place at the end of the line. Merlin can’t help it. He bursts out laughing as he’s putting the lid on a cup of coffee and pushing it across the counter to a customer. The thing is, he knows Gwen will fall so hard for all those cheesy sort of lines.

Arthur catches Merlin’s eye and raises his eyebrows, widening his eyes in a teasing ‘I-told-you-so’ sort of face. Merlin raises an eyebrow and grins.

When Merlin finally gets to take his break, he heads directly for the table Arthur is sitting at and sits down, pushing a coffee across the table. “Where’d you find lover boy?” he asks, jerking his head toward Lancelot, who is leaning against a display of coffee tins, saying something that is likely ridiculously sappy to Gwen, who is wearing a near permanent blush.

Arthur takes a sip of the coffee. “He was hanging around outside, believe or not, just staring through the window. I stopped to ask if he was looking for someone, just out of curiosity, and he said he’d been hopelessly in love with Gwen since forever but was too shy to talk to her.”

“And a light bulb went off in your head, didn’t it,” Merlin says, full out grinning now.

“Exactly. It’s the perfect solution to all your flatmate problems.”

“He certainly is charming. Why aren’t you like that?”

Arthur laughs shortly. “Would that work on you? Because I could start. You know how sappy I can get.”

Merlin grimaces. “Forget I brought that up, you can just continue with your method of acting like a complete prat to woo men.”

“To _woo_ men?”

“Yes, _woo_ ,” Merlin says. “So, my best guess is that they’ll be going out tonight. You fancy coming over and watching shitty movies with me?”

“If you’re asking me now, does that mean I’ve successfully _wooed_ you?” Arthur asks, barely holding back his smile.

Merlin hits Arthur in the shoulder as hard as he can. It’s apparently comparable to a fly landing on him. Merlin insists that every fly Arthur’s encountered has been particularly vicious.

~*~

Arthur’s only just left and Merlin hasn’t managed to shake his stupid grin by the time Gwen comes in the door. She has a stupid grin on her face that Merlin imagines as mirroring his own as she sits down on the couch next to him.

“So, you need to say thank you to Arthur for bringing Lancelot in. He’s absolutely wonderful,” Gwen says after a surprisingly not awkward silent moment.

“Better thank yourself, really,” Merlin says. “If you hadn’t sent that text, Arthur probably wouldn’t have known to bring Lancelot in.”

Gwen nods at her hands, which are folded on her lap. “How was your night?”

“Fantastic,” Merlin says, the grin returning. “Arthur came round and we watched stupid movies and threw popcorn at the screen. It was fun.”

“You really like him, don’t you,” Gwen marvels.

“I suppose I do, yeah.” Merlin shrugs non-committally, but he can feel a happy lump growing in his throat at the thought of Arthur and himself actually dating.

Gwen shifts uncomfortably on the sofa cushion, crossing one leg over the other. “Does this conversation mean I’m forgiven?”

“What?” Merlin asks, still distracted by the dating thought. “Oh! Yeah, it’s all right. When I really thought about what you said last night, I understood where you were coming from. Just, next time, try not to do things behind my back.”

“I swear,” Gwen promises. Then a cunning smile spreads across her face and Merlin realises that he’s so in for it now. “After all that with Arthur, you’re not going to just keep denying to yourself that you like him, right? You’re actually going to give him a legitimate chance?”

Merlin sighs. “Well, as you say about this Lancelot... he is rather wonderful.”

Gwen giggles and shoves Merlin teasingly. “Now we can stay up late and giggle over our boy toys,” she crows.

“I think Arthur would resent being called a boy toy,” Merlin observes. “I must remember to refer to him as such the next time I see him.”

Gwen just shakes her head and declares that she’s going to make more popcorn and then they’re going to dissect every second of both of their dates until they’ve started making absurd theories about time travel and destiny.

Merlin is uncharacteristically excited about it.

~*~

“So, you’ve theorised that I’m King Arthur reincarnated, and you’re the wizard Merlin?” Arthur says sceptically over his plate of chips.

Merlin nods enthusiastically. “It even explains your round table meetings,” he points out.

Arthur just shakes his head and pops another chip into his mouth. “Not that I’m not happy that you’ve worked things out with Gwen, but you need to not have discussions about this sort of thing.”

“You’re just trying to ruin everything good in my life, aren’t you?” Merlin says.

“No. Only the things that lead to you adopting terrifying new nick names for me.”

“What, you don’t like the idea that you’re _my_ boy toy?” Merlin puts on his best pouty face for Arthur’s benefit. Arthur snorts.

“No, I like the bit where I’m yours and everything, I’m just not such a fan of being a _toy_. I’d rather be a human being, you know?”

Merlin thinks that maybe his heart just melted a bit. “Damn you, Arthur Pendragon,” he mutters. “You’ve made me go soft.”

Arthur grins. “It’s the sap. It gets them every time. Also, while I am enjoying the atmosphere immensely, these chips are absolutely horrific.” He looks at one disdainfully, then pops it into his mouth.

“So why are you still eating them? I told you not to in the first place.”

“And that,” Arthur says, pointing at Merlin with one of the chips, “is _precisely_ why.”

“Clot pole.”

“Get some new insults.”

~*~

From: Arthur Pendragon 21:33

If you don’t snog the shit out of me in front of your building this time, I’m calling it off on the grounds that you’re a cocktease.

To: Arthur Pendragon 21:46

Is it safe to say that it’s still on?

From: Arthur Pendragon 21:48

Can’t think straight, there are still proverbial fireworks. Try back later.


End file.
